


Can't Love You in the Dark

by TragicLove



Series: HanFic Bingo 2018/19 [3]
Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 04:56:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLove/pseuds/TragicLove
Summary: Her only weakness came in the form of messy brown hair, too tight pants, and a wedding ring hanging on a black string around his neck.





	Can't Love You in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty different from anything I've ever written before. If this is terrible and hurts your eyes, you can blame xhorizen for egging me on.
> 
> Written for HanFic Bingo, prompt: breakup sex.
> 
> Song title comes from Adele's Love in the Dark.

She’d shown up by the bus, just like she did every time. And just like the dozens of times before, when he finally reached her, she asked him for a picture. But, just like always, as he slid his arm around her, smiling up at her phone like he did with everyone else there that night, he did something that he only ever did for her. She felt the keycard slide into the back pocket of her jeans and she couldn’t help herself from wondering if anyone had noticed. She knew they hadn’t, no one ever had. She knew enough to know that if anyone had even a sneaking suspicion, it would be out there. Gossip on Facebook groups, anonymous posts on Tumblr. If anyone knew about their little arrangement, she’d know it by now. They were all too busy imagining their own dreamed up connections with him to notice the real one they shared, almost brazenly, out in the open like this. 

 

When he started playing the song that night, the one he’d told his fans was about his daughter, but that she knew he’d really written for her, she was buzzing with anticipation. It never dulled, not after all these years, not after all of the times they’d met just like this. She was sure she could go the rest of her life living on the exhilaration that their little secret brought her. If only she hadn’t made the decision that tonight would be the last night, she wouldn’t - couldn’t - allow them to keep this up anymore. 

 

She’d tried to end it before. More than once. But, he had these eyes and this smile and every time he laid them on her, all of her resolve wilted away to nothing. She didn’t have many weaknesses in life, she prided herself on how strong she was, how sure of herself. Her only weakness came in the form of messy brown hair, too tight pants, and a wedding ring hanging on a black string around his neck. The match to it’s pair wasn’t on her finger. It didn’t belong to her, and despite how much she loved him, either did he. She’d spent the better part of a decade sleeping with someone else’s husband, the amount of love between them didn’t matter anymore, it was time to let go.

 

It was the same every time. She’d call a cab, give the driver the name of the hotel on the key card in her pocket. She’d get there long before he’d even left the venue, but he’d always make sure she was taken care of. He’d arrange for room service to have food and champagne waiting for her. She’d eat, slip on the fuzzy bathrobe with whatever hotel chain monogram was on it this time, have a couple of glasses of champagne, and she’d wait. The time had never bothered her. Some nights she’d wait for hours, curled up and dozed off underneath the duvet. He’d slip into the room and underneath the covers, his warm arms wrapping around her, his nose nudging hers to wake her. Time meant nothing when you knew that the most perfect thing you’d ever known would be waiting at the end of it. 

 

They’d talked about what it would be like, they’d run away somewhere where no one knew their names, start a new life. But, she knew he never would. She’d never outright asked him to leave his wife, maybe she was afraid of what he’d say, or maybe she just knew that regardless of how he felt about her, she didn’t deserve to have him all of the time. She hadn’t stood by him through countless ups and downs in every day life. She hadn’t raised four of his kids, held his home together when things got rough. She’d always known that by allowing herself to be The Other Woman in his life, she wasn’t only disrespecting herself, but a woman who from everything she knew had done nothing to deserve it.

 

So, that night, as she sat up in the too big for one person hotel room, she skipped the bathrobe, left the food untouched. She drank more than her usual share of the chilled bottle of champagne, leaving it sitting almost empty in the silver bucket filled with ice. Her nerves were on edge, she knew if she said the words out loud he’d try to stop her, change her mind, and he’d be really good at it. She’d second guess herself. She’d almost decide to stay. But, she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. Not this time. This time was different, because it wasn’t just him who had someone else at home anymore - she had someone else now too. 

 

When he finally showed up, looking like a dream and smelling sweet from the shower he’d taken at the venue before finally getting on the bus, she let him wrap his arms around her, nuzzle his face into her neck.

 

He whispered into her hair, _I missed you_ , his lips pressed to the side of her head. 

 

She let him undress her, strong calloused hands moving over every inch of her skin, clothes being discarded in piles on the carpeted floor. 

 

She committed every movement, every touch to memory, knowing that she’d never feel what it felt like to be near him like this again. Every rule she was breaking, every secret she was piling up inside of her was worth the guilt she knew she’d live with. If she couldn’t have him ever again, she was going to allow herself this one last time, something to remember him by. 

 

It was almost like he knew, some instinctual knowledge inside of him telling him that this time was the last time. The way he moved over her, in her, slow and lovingly. The way he whispered sweet things into the air around them. _I love you. I need you. You’re everything to me._

 

She couldn’t help it when the tears came. They didn’t come in shuddering waves or wracking sobs. They were silent, rolling down her face as his lips moved with hers, her arms wrapped firmly around his body as if she could press them together and erase all of the reasons why they had to go their own ways. 

 

When he noticed, he kissed her tears away, one after the other, one hand moving to her cheek. When he looked her in the eye and said the words again, _I love you_ , every nerve ending in her body came to life, the simmering inside her turning to a white hot fire. They came together, grasping each other as if they were each life vests in a tumultuous sea, each others only chance at survival. She knew that once she let go, took her hands off of that life vest, sent it off into the ocean of life, she’d feel like she was drowning for a while. A goodbye was never easy, but a goodbye that had been building for damn near ten years might be sad enough to kill a person. Not literally, not really, but there had to be pieces inside of you, tiny little bits that shriveled up and vanished every time you had to say goodbye to someone who you really wanted to spend forever existing on this earth with. _How many do we have before we run out?_ She wondered to herself. _How many goodbyes until we break for good?_

 

She usually stayed the night. They’d cuddle and kiss and talk and laugh until it was so late that both of their eyes were burning and red, exhaustion taking over. They’d sleep, clutching each other, pretending that this was their lives - their life, together - until the morning came and they were reminded quickly that it would be awhile before they felt this way again. But, not tonight, not this time. This time she stood up from the bed, pulled her clothes on. When he asked her where she was going, the only thing she could think to say was that she had an early morning, she couldn’t stay. 

 

Always the gentleman, he called her a cab, walked her down to the lobby. Her eyes scanned the room, making sure there were no fans around, no one looking at them, and then she stood up on her tip toes, pressed her lips against his. When she placed the envelope in his hands, thin white paper inside explaining to him why it was over, why she could never stand in front of him like this again, he smiled softly, and she knew she had been right, he’d known this was coming. 

 

Walking away from him was hard. There was a moment when she considered throwing the cab door open and running back into the hotel. Flinging herself at him and telling him it was time, they’d run away, they’d find an island somewhere where no one knew their names. But, it wasn’t just her, and it wasn’t just him that she had to consider. There were other people to think about, and she knew that what she was doing was right, even if it felt like she’d just taken a sledgehammer to her own heart. 

 

From that night forward when she’d go to see him play she’d stand in the back, let the music wash over her. She wouldn’t go by the bus, she wouldn’t ask him for a picture. There wouldn’t be a warm arm sliding around her, a keycard slid into her pocket. From then on when he’d play that song, the one he’d written for her, she’d still buzz, she’d smile, but the hints of sadness, longing, the memories of every moment they’d ever spent wrapped up in each other would run through her mind. She’d be reminded that he’d loved her, even if he couldn’t love her in the way she’d needed him to, he had. And for her, that would always be enough.


End file.
